Poorly
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♥Apr. 4th, 2016 // 02:33 pm♥
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Having felt as though I was getting better, post-Eastercon, I seem to have got worse again.
The night before last, I spent large chunks of time coughing away, disturbing Mike (I did go and sit up for an hour at one point, which probably helped). As he's in London today, when the same thing started happening last night, completely with disturbing half-dreams about summoning demons by coughing at them*, I instead got up and made the spare bed. That way, I figured, Mike would be undisturbed by the noise (even if, naturally, he didn't sleep as well as usual due to my absence) while I could, if necessary, go and get the radio to keep me company and lead to rather more pleasant half-dreams about whatever was on the World Service at 3am.
I did indeed have my company well kept by a very interesting episode of Thinking Aloud, made none the less so by the fact that when I woke up at the end of it I realised I hadn't actually gone and got the radio. I also, I suspect, got rather more sleep than I would have otherwise done as I wasn't keeping myself awake thinking 'mustn't cough, mustn't cough' every time I woke up.
And Mike? Didn't even realise I wasn't in bed until he woke up. Late. Pah!
Today, I am feeling distinctly feeble. Poor pooch had a Statutory Minimum Walk (although she did at least get to see her boyfriend for ten minutes before I managed to get enough of a word in edgeways to excuse myself back to the sofa), and I'm now trying to figure out if I can summon the effort to go and choose a Wii game to occupy myself for the rest of the afternoon or if I will instead just flick through games on my iPhone, hit refresh on websites, and try to ignore the accusing 70+ unread Follycon emails that I need to read through....
* I'm currently re-reading the Milkweed Triptych. This is possibly not the best thing to be reading when you have a sore throat and need cheering up, but it's all Mike's fault: I just re-read the Rivers Of London books, and when I got to the end said "Is there a short story, or something, where he goes back in time to Ettisberg and sees the battle?" and Mike said "No, you're thinking of Milkweed." Similar premise to my imagined short story, rather different tone.... |
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